Started to think about all of the mothers I know: my own dear mother, just about to celebrate her 80th birthday; my wife’s mother, a reasonably spry 86; my wife, a champion mother; my daughter, excellent mother to our grandchildren; our friends close and not, near and not; my coworkers, many of whom, like my wife, juggle family with a demanding job (I certainly couldn’t do it).

A member of the curmudgeon’s guild ought to be railing against artificial so-called holidays egregiously invented by the greeting card, floral, jewelry and brunch businesses, but not me today.